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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939179">Dragon Age Fictober Fills</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireopalCHAOS/pseuds/FireopalCHAOS'>FireopalCHAOS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst?, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Age: Inquisition - The Descent DLC, Emotions, F/F, F/M, Fictober 2020, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Legion of the Dead, Like very minor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Panic Attacks, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Slavery, This is more sad/angry than I thought, Time Travel, Vomiting, danarius is going to die, feral elves, hawke already has it planned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:48:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireopalCHAOS/pseuds/FireopalCHAOS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have happened once already. The world changed, faced a truth that was refused and the clock turned back. Now, the Breach is back and a second chance is staring in the face of the Inquisition.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Fills for fictober 2020. All of them take place in the same world at different times. Might be added to/reworked afterwards.</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cassandra Pentaghast &amp; Varric Tethras, Cole &amp; Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Leliana &amp; Cassandra Pentaghast, Male Inquisitor &amp; Varric Tethras, Male Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Male Lavellan &amp; Cassandra Pentaghast, Male Lavellan &amp; Varric Tethras, Male Lavellan/Solas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. "No, come back!"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s running. Chasing the figure walking away. They keep putting distance between them, though, no matter how fast he runs.</p><p>Roots, branches, bushes scratch and grab at him. He stumbles. Falls to the ground. The figure keeps going. Doesn’t look back.</p><p>“No!” he yells. “Come back!”</p><p>They keep walking. Disappear into the trees.</p><p>He pants, hand reaching out. He lowers it. Looks around and wishes he were faster, able to keep up. His eye catches on a track. A footprint in the earth and he scrambles up. There are more leading away.</p><p>Maybe he can’t chase, but he can track.</p><p>They lead on and on and on and it feels like he has gone nowhere at all when a raven caws. He looks for it, wants to see what it has to say, but it is not there. And when he turns back to the tracks, they are gone.</p><p>He collapses. Was this what he was heading for? Lost and alone with nothing making sense?</p><p>Another caw. He ignores it, hopes it will leave. It calls again, almost sounding insistent. Sighing, he looks up, tries to spot the raven, but again, it is nowhere to be seen. He leans against a tree, raises a hand to-</p><p>It’s red.</p><p>Where his hand was shifts red. A glow soft and easy to miss and there is more. Footsteps on the ground, grazes and collisions marking the plant life. He shifts, looks at the tree behind him and red lights up the bark. These aren’t from whoever he was pursuing. They are from him.</p><p>A raven calls and it follows the trail of red.</p><p>He stands, walks the way he came. The red doesn’t disappear, grows brighter as he follows it. What is at the end? He can’t recall, he only remembers chasing the figure. Was he really that wrapped up in it he never noticed? Or was the chase because he didn't notice?</p><p>Slowly, the forest changes. Becomes more open and he can hear the sounds that were missing before. The raven still calls, louder as he continues.</p><p>The sound of wailing cuts through. A child’s cries and he speeds up. It comes from the path of red, gets louder as the forest thins. Another joins it. They twist together, fear and despair rising over everything.</p><p>He jerks to a stop. The trail has ended and he’s on a cliff. A figure kneels at the edge, two raven--no, children--cling to them, repeating ‘Ir abelas’ over and over.</p><p>This is not who hje was chasing. Someone different, yet he is not disappointed. The hood of a cloak lifts, falls back and his breath catches. A face filled with kindness and pain; a hand lids, gestures for him to come closer.</p><p><a id="return1" name="return1"></a>“Da’elu<sup><a href="#note1">1</a></sup>, why are you here?” The voice is soft, kind; so very different from what he was expecting.</p><p>His eyes flutter and he fights to keep them open. He’s so tired. “I was hunting, Himasha. I lost them.”</p><p>“Not all hunts are meant to succeed, da’elu. Mayhap the query changes or the hunter finds another trail.” The hand brushes his hair out of his face. “Do not allow shifting nature to wear you down. Sharpen yourself and shape what you want.”</p><p>“Himasha, they’ll destroy the world. Everything.”</p><p>Pale eyes squint, look past him to the forest. The children cling tighter and hiss.</p><p>“Da’elu” a whisper against his forehead “would you accept my help? If I said I could put you ahead of the one you hunt?”</p><p>He freezes. The offer is tempting, too good to come without a price. If it is a true offer at all.</p><p>“What do you get out of my accepting?”</p><p>A smile, soft, genuine. Gesture to the cliff and what lies beyond. The sky reflected perfectly on the ground or the ground reflecting the sky. It hurts to look at and tell were one begins with the others end.</p><p><a id="return2" name="return2"></a>“Ma salhasa<sup><a href="#note2">2</a></sup>. It should not be still, yet it is. I stagnate here. If you accept, ma salhasa shall grow, even if it is a little. That is what I will get.”</p><p>The answer is easy. He doubts he would have chosen differently, no matter the price.</p><p><a id="return3" name="return3"></a>“Vin”<sup><a href="#note3">3</a></sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a><sup>1</sup>Da'elu - little secret<sup>[<a href="#return1">back</a>]</sup><br/><a id="note2" name="note2"></a><sup>2</sup>Ma salhasa - my being/soul<sup>[<a href="#return2">back</a>]</sup><br/><a id="note3" name="note3"></a><sup>3</sup>Vin - yes<sup>[<a href="#return3">back</a>]</sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "That's the easy part"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Solas would like to punch himself in the face.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So what are you planning on doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas glances at Bull. He remembers the pain he caused with the betrayal at the end. The shattering expression when he added to what was already there and he didn’t know it was there. He always hated the Qun, yet when he learned later, he truly hated them. He had thought maybe that Bull had seen the error of it, started to question the Qun, but he was wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet it is far preferable to-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, this says if we have a ‘Mercy’s Crest’ we can enter their camp without being attacked,” Mahanon says, waving a paper through the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>‘How will you handle that elf if this works?’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He scuffs, ‘That’s the easy part. It won’t be a problem.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas turns away, scowls at himself. How stupid of him to think that. That it would be easy to ignore the feelings that had grown between them. That seeing Mahanon younger and without the weight of the world wouldn’t make his heart hurt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Truly his pride clouded his vision then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Solas!” Mahanon calls. “What do you think? Should we make the Mercy’s Crest?”</span>
</p>
<p><span>The Blades of Hesserian were good. Loyal to Mahanon</span> <span>until the end. If he was smart, he would say no, that the Mercy’s Crest is time they don’t have. And yet-</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“It is worth a try.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon nods, starts back to the path they used to get up here. Heading back to the camp to make the crest. Bull walks not far behind asking something about the crest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varric looks back at him, “Chuckles, not the time for daydreaming. Come on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas nods, steps into the too familiar space just behind Mahanon. Mahanon glances at him and smiles before turning back to Bull.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really. The him that called this ‘easy’ was an idiot.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. "You did this?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mahanon can't sleep due to worry.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It is the middle of the night and Mahanon can’t sleep. Worry bites at his heels for his clan and he wishes he could go there and do whatever he can to help, but he can’t. The best he can do with everything else going on is ask Cullen, Josephine, or Lilianna to arrange something with massive uncertainty to what will happen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he can’t sleep and back with the clan he would walk the perimeter until his mind had settled. Skyhold is not a place in the wild, not a place where he could, but it has places he can wander. Places normally filled with people and noise made quite with the night. Like the library.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shuts the door behind him, careful of the sound, and makes his way up the stairs. There’s light coming from the room still, used by those still working and when he peeks around the corner, it is just Helsima and a few other Tranquil. They stay focused with only Helsima glancing over to see if he is dropping anything off before turning back to her work. Mahanon brushes over the books. Reads the titles and scowls at the number of Andrastian tomes. He very much doubts that </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what shem read for entertainment. He’s heard about Varric’s books.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of wood scraping across stone and he looks out of the alcove he’s in. Some of the Tranquil are glancing over the railing before returning to their work. Curious, Mahnaon steps closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath catches at the colors across the wall of the rotunda. It is beautiful. Elven paintwork he hasn’t seen in a year. More scraping and Mahanon tears his gaze away to see what is causing it. Solas is there, pushing some scaffolding to a different position. Colors are spread across his clothes and skin and he casts a quick glance to the fresco before heading to the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas has his back to the entry, focused on the table. He looks to the side, at the fresco brought to life on the walls and barely stops himself from touching it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something clatters and Mahanon twists to find Solas grabbing at bowls to keep them from spilling across the table. He looks over his shoulder once they are stable and steps away from the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas glances at the wall, “Yes. A way to honor the path you have taken.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t say it like that. It makes it sound like I’m more important than I actually am,” Mahanon says, leaning against the entry. “Though, I do like them. Did you learn the style from the Fade?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Fade holds a lot of knowledge,” Solas says. “Why are you awake so late? I would have thought you would want to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My head’s too loud right now... Would you mind telling me a story of the Fade?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you, lethalin? Never. Is there any in particular you wish to hear?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. "That didn't stop you before"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Varric remembers. At least he's not alone, though that might have made it easier.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Temple of Sacred Ashes explodes and Varric wants to curse whatever decided to play with the world. He follows after Cassandra as she runs out to stare and starts ordering people into some sort of organization. She’s doing a great job and he half wonders if she was this good last time and he just didn’t notice. It wouldn’t surprise him with how panicked everyone was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple of groups start heading up to the Temple. Varric knows what they’ll find, wishes there was something he could do to lessen the oncoming storm. He hopes that Snowy can forgive him for not being able to do much of anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s helping shove supplies around when he spots Chuckles speaking with the alchemist. His fingers twitch for Bianca. Wants to put a bolt between his eyes for the pain he caused Snowy. But he’s also the one who kept Snowy from dying from the anchor so Varric grits his teeth and uses the anger to move the crates. Dealing with Chuckles can wait until Snowy is taken care of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s another couple of hours before the squads start returning. The first one comes in carrying someone and he strains to get a look. To see Snowy </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span> even if not particularly well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varric’s eye catches on Cassandra as she approaches the captain, catches the rapid shuttering she does as she looks away from whoever they are carrying. He squints, suspicious. No one here...should recognize Snowy. No one but him. Unless…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soldiers leave and Varric makes his way over to the cabin Cassandra stepped into. She’s at a desk, looking at papers and running a hand over her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Seeker,” he starts, “looks like we just got involved into a very interesting story.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you on about, Varric?” Cassandra asks, turning to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No point in playing, Seeker. You recognized Snowy when they brought him here. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>remember</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cassandra’s face twists. Anger, regret, confusion; so much shows in her face. Varric shrugs, starts-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well this makes three of us,” Leliana says, sweeping into the room. “I haven’t been able to tell if anyone else remembers, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Varric rubs his face, “Is now a bad time to mention I saw Chuckles? Because I saw Chuckles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cassandra opens her mouth, a snarl on her lips, but Leliana cuts her off, “For now, we accept his help. No one else has a chance at keeping the Inquisitor alive long enough to stabilize the Breach.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can at least make it clear an investigation needs to be made before accusations against someone with no proof. Truth needs to be our focus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That didn’t stop you before, Seeker. And I don’t think you can give a convincing reason to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> do what you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cassandra growls, paces the small room. Varric can’t blame her. This whole situation is shit. Chuckles isn’t at the height of his power yet, but Corypheus is back with all the shit he brought the first time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will figure it out, Cassandra. For now, though, we have to pretend to know nothing.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. "Unacceptable, try again"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There's a Secret and a Reality in his head. It makes it hard, sometimes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two voices whisper in his head. A Secret and a Reality. The Well no longer there, consumed by what is supposed to be there.
</p>
<p>He clenches his fingers. Counts them as he relaxes his hands and focuses. Ten fingers; an ache that disappears with the stretch; no slick, warm blood; no harsh metal slicing his skin.
</p>
<p>The Reality bleeds away. Slips back to the silent shore with a soft sigh and he blinks awake to red swaying nearby. He sits up, crawls closer to the shifting light  and looks out.
</p>
<p>A forest thinning to a plain. More red-sailed wagons and the white coated halla that dance among them. Others, walking or sitting. Talking, laughing, living.
</p>
<p>One spots him and he watches as they--she--comes closer. A soft smile across her lips, her eyes casting over him, “It is good to see you awake, da’len. Are you well?”
</p>
<p>He nods, slow, staring. “I have ten fingers.” ‘My hands do not have blood on them. There is no blade slicing my skin.’
</p>
<p>She bows her head in acceptance, hears the unheard words. One of her hands rises, brushes back his hair, “Where are you, da’len?”
</p>
<p>His eyes flutter close, “Aravel. Free Marches.”
</p>
<p><a id="return4" name="return4"></a><em>Amahn as dalem em</em><sup><a href="#note4">1</a></sup>.
</p>
<p><a id="return5" name="return5"></a>“Give yourself time to collect your memories, da’assan<sup><a href="#note5">2</a></sup>. You have it here.”
</p>
<p>He doesn’t reply. Hears her walk away and leans against the side of the aravel. He can’t tell if the loudest whisper is the Secret or the Reality.
</p>
<p><a id="return6" name="return6"></a><em>As athem em. Ladanam em, ahnsul asa isalem.</em><sup><a href="#note6">3</a></sup>
</p>
<p>The Secret. It was someone. Killed by another in all the ways that matter by a blade held in the hand of a trusted other.
</p>
<p><a id="return7" name="return7"></a><em>Ar te’dalem nuven esh’ala. Asa erash tuem em; ar tel’eola. Thu ar tel’eolasa?</em><sup><a href="#note7">4</a></sup>
</p>
<p>The whisper fades back, settles under the still waters. He breathes easier though sleep chases him. Sunlight is warm on his face and the swaying of the aravel a familiar comfort.
</p>
<p>He dozes. Drifts just out of reach of the fade yet not quite in the waking world. A raven caws. The sky roils with intent to rain. A still sea spirals in on itself.
</p>
<p>The aravel stops. He wakes, the sea falling away and he looks around. It is one of the many places they camp in the plains and he slips off the bench to help with camp setup. Some of the young ones follow him around, watch him as he sets things up.
</p>
<p>Some attempt to mimic what he is doing with sticks and bits of fabric. He huffs, watches it fall apart, “Unacceptable, try again.”
</p>
<p>They laugh, try again as he works and still it falls. Again and again, until he is done and sits next to them. Shows them how to twist just right so it stays standing but will be undone at a moments notice. They take turns then, putting it together and pulling it apart.
</p>
<p>A hand falls on his shoulder and he looks up. Ellana is there, a smile on her face, “Did you sleep well?”
</p>
<p>He nods. She grins, sits next to him as the fire flickers under the pot for tonight's dinner. He stares up at the sky, at the stars slowly coming to life.
</p>
<p><a id="return8" name="return8"></a><em>Lathem u’vun.</em><sup><a href="#note8">5</a></sup>
</p>
<p>The whisper is unexpected. He raises a hand to his lips. Mouths the words against his fingers and wonders who they would have been for.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note4" name="note4"></a><sup>1</sup>Amahn as dalem em. - Here she killed me.<sup><a href="#return4">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note5" name="note5"></a><sup>2</sup>da'assan - little arrow<sup><a href="#return5">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note6" name="note6"></a><sup>3</sup>As athem em. Ladanam em, ahnsul asa isalem. - She seperated me. Mended me, for her need.<sup><a href="#return6">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note7" name="note7"></a><sup>4</sup>Ar te’dalem nuven esh’ala. Asa erash tuem em; ar tel’eolasa. Thu ar tel’eolasa? - I didn't want to kill them. Her story made me; I knew not. How did I know not?<sup><a href="#return7">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note8" name="note8"></a><sup>5</sup>Lathem u'vun - I loved stars.<sup><a href="#return8">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. "That was impressive"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It is a new start. A chance to reclaim his goal, and yet...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Solas holds his breath as they enter the Hinterlands. So far things have gone the same as last time, but it is still too early to tell how much has changed. Tension is thick between the four of them and he can’t fully tell what is causing it, there is so much that it could be. Part of him hates this unease, longs for the camaraderie of the end, but he gave that up before he turned the clock.
</p><p>Mahanon is in front. He’s more assured here in the semi-wilderness then Haven; then Skyhold and did he not notice before?
</p><p>Cassandra hisses something at Varric and he turns, ready to keep a fight from starting in this early relationship. Later, they will be friends. Arguments rare in place of debates and discussions and laughter. It is odd that he misses that. Misses the life he built in this time when he is trying to restore what he destroyed.
</p><p>And yet that is not what he misses most.
</p><p>He glances away from Cassandra and Varric. Wants to see a Mahanon filled with life and not beaten down by the world. Solas frowns, not able to spot him further on the road.  He glances to the sides, seeking and can’t find him anywhere. Just as he pulls his staff off his back, the clash of metal rings.
</p><p>Cassandra runs to it, sword drawn and shield up. Varric pulls up his crossbow and he swings his staff toward the sound.
</p><p>A group of templars. Already hurt from a previous battle and it is kind of pathetic how easy it is to fight them compared to the red templars. They lack the crazed power and mindless desire.
</p><p>Solas goes to cast a barrier around Cassandra only to feel his magic stutter out. He twists, sees a templar behind him with raised sword. His staff comes up, but his grip is wrong and he braces for impact.
</p><p>A dagger sticks out of the templar’s throat and another pierced into their chest. He blinks as the templar falls to the ground, Mahanon wiping the blades off on his leggings with a scowl.
</p><p>“That was impressive,” he says. Can’t help saying it. Mahanon got so few true compliments last time, even a few more are worth the world.
</p><p>Mahanon looks up at him, a half smile on his lips, “It wasn’t hard. And you needed the help.” His gaze slips past Solas, the smile falling, “I think I found the Crossroads. We’ll have to deal with more fighting though.”
</p><p>“Of course. The mages and templars are focused on fighting each other, not the people they are affecting,” Varric says walking up to them.
</p><p>“Let us hurry,” Cassandra adds, “we do not want to risk the refugees and Sisters at the Crossroads.”
</p><p>Something flickers over Mahanon’s face. There and gone fast enough he almost doubts it was there, but Solas is certain that it was there. The same expression that filled Mahanon’s face before, after they got to Skyhold. Meet Dorian.
</p><p>He wonders what it means that it is present so early this time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. "Yes I did. What about it?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He accepted the Well again. Morigan is confused.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You knew,” Morigan whispers. “You knew it was my- Mythal.”
</p>
<p>He looks up from his lap, “Yes, I did. What about it?”
</p>
<p>Morigan’s face twists before she turns away, gaze turned to Keiran’s room, “You could have said something. If not in the temple, once we got back.”
</p>
<p>“If I could have,” he says, “I would have. As it stands, I couldn’t until the entire thing had been finished.”
</p>
<p>She turns back to him, “I...I suppose I must thank you, then. You took in the Well and bound yourself to her. She won’t release you from that.”
</p>
<p>He snorts, “I am aware of that.”
</p>
<p>Morigan sends him a look, but he ignores it, turns back to his marked hand. He can only feel the anchor’s numb pain sitting in his veins. The chain wasn’t this bad last time, but he also didn’t know it was there or the story he was acting out.
</p>
<p>“She’s my cousin,” he says.
</p>
<p>Morigan flinches, sighs. “Who?”
</p>
<p>“Lyna. The Hero of Ferelden.”
</p>
<p>“Oh. That’s why Leliana likes you, then.”
</p>
<p>He shakes his head, flexes his hand, “I haven’t brought it up with Leliana. Too much going on.”
</p>
<p>“I thought she’d killed my mother. Though I guess it is difficult to kill an elven god even in a mortal body.”
</p>
<p>
  <a id="return9" name="return9"></a><em>As nuvenem dalem ma.</em><sup><a href="#note9">1</a></sup></p>
<p>Interesting that the Secret would respond to that. He’s not in the right state to understand what it said, though, and let’s it slide back into the sea. The Reality stirs on the shore, the sound of metal falling and cracking splitting the still air.
</p><p>“Inquisitor,” Morigan’s voice breaks through his thoughts, “I would offer--should you request it--my help in breaking whatever control Mythal has over you.”
</p>
<p>He can’t say what he wants to. That there’s no need for her offer, but he can’t so he says, “Serannasa em.”
</p>
<p>She stands, dusts off her skirt, “I shall see you in the morning. We still have Corypheus to deal with.”
</p>
<p>The garden is empty by the time he can say, “She lies and doesn’t realize.”
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note9" name="note9"></a><sup>1</sup>As nuvenem dalem ma. - She wanted to kill you.<sup><a href="#return9">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. "I'm not doing that again."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sera remembers. And vows to change things.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sera growls, shoves her bedding away to get up. This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>! She was happy! Dagna, the Jenny’s, his Iquisiness; all of it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Well not the egghead trying to destroy the world, but they were fucking dealing with it!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now she’s in a stupid room she barely remembers in a city she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hole</span>
  </em>
  <span> is back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chews her lip. Egghead was planning something. Something Lavellan had figured out, but didn’t have time to explain before leaving to take care of. He’d just asked she tell the others when they got up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t do that now,” Sera mutters. She turns, tries to figure out where she is but before she joined the Inquisition, she didn’t really pay attention to </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span> she slept. “Screwed myself over. Great. Val Royeaux, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes flick back to the sky. It’s stupid, but Dorian talked about time magic going on in Redcliffe. If the hole in the sky is back and she’s here with no one else, maybe Egghead did something to time? Or maybe Lavellan interrupted and that caused this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking magic shite,” she mutters. “Can’t ever be simple.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are footsteps behind her, running. Sera grabs her bow, fumbles at the odd feel of it and misses the one Lavellan made for her. The people that come running are day workers and she loosens her grip. She doesn’t remember sleeping under someone’s roof, but things got crazy in a stupid way quick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One turns to her, “Did you see what happened? Things were fine, then </span>
  <em>
    <span>boom</span>
  </em>
  <span> green thing in the sky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head, “Nah. I was asleep. Thing woke me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonder what happened,” another says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera ignores the rest of it. Already heard a dozen conversations like it before the Inquisition started making waves. She can’t answer what happened, but she knows she’s in the past. The explosion just happened and that means Corypanillius is a problem again. She thinks about everything that happened and there’s no way she can let it happen again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s not sure she can join right away though. It took time for the whole thing to get started so it might be best for her to wait until they come to Val Royeaux again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her thoughts wander to the end. The argument after the Temple and the distance Lavellan put between them after that. She bites her lip. Looking back, Sera can see the discomfort that filled him every time the Chantry was mentioned. Everytime he was placed into it unwillingly. And she did the same thing. Made her friend feel bad without realizing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kicks the post, paint scuffing, “Doesn’t matter anything else: I’m not doing that again. I’ll be a friend. To my best this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera looks up, squints at the Breach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You better be ready, Coryphanozzle, Egghead. Cause I’m not gonna hold any arrows back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. "Will you look at this?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The mountain air is sharp in his lungs. Electrifying in a way he's missed and didn’t realize. For all he hates why he is here again, it is nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except for the shemlen. Most of them could fall off a cliff for all he cares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varric waves at him and he nods back, continues on his path. Solas is outside, looking up at the sky, the Breach. He wonders what he's thinking. If he's planning how to save the orb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bites his lips, looks down at the pages filled with Ellana's handwriting. It is a risk doing this. The chain on his hand tightens, his fingers numb. His jaw clenches and he walks up the stairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas turns at his approach, a slight smile and tame words at his lips, but he cuts him off, “Will you look at this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” Solas says, frowning. “Though wouldn't it be better to discuss with your... advisors?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to laugh, cry, scream, but he can't. The chain tightens around his arm and still he says, “Later, maybe. For now, it is just for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence for a moment. Solas looking between him and the papers he holds. A nod, gesture to the cabin Solas has claimed for himself and he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The cabin's walls are a comfort, a barrier against the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is on them?” Solas asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his mouth, tries to answer, but the words are wrong on his tongue. His mouth closes and he frowns at the papers. Answering directly is impossible, how can he...?</span>
</p><p><a id="return10" name="return10"></a>“Something asa’malin<sup><a href="#note10">1</a></sup> wrote for me,” he says. “It is... important. For you. For everyone. But you first.”</p><p>
  <span>Solas’ confusion is palpable. He didn't talk about his family much at all last time; not trusting at first then the pain was not worth bringing it up. That he brought up Ellana this early will be concerning for him. He hopes that Solas picks up the pieces, though. That he realizes the truth instead of being stuck in a beautiful lie</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand tilts his head up and he locks eyes with Solas. There is worry that was missing, ripped away to fit the needs. “Are you feeling well, Mahanon?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon has to fight the urge to gasp. The fragile stability in his mind twisting. The sea twists, wants to lash out, while the Secret hisses too fast and the Reality sits calmly. “As well as I can at present, Solas. You” the chain tightens, he flexes his hand “should read this. Please, haren.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas takes the pages. Mahanon’s breath feels heavy in his lungs and the chain is spearing through his arm, but he did what he wanted to. Now, though, he has to fall back in line with her story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should go,” Mahanon says. “Make sure preparations are going to plan for the Breach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas opens his mouth, goes to say something, but he can't stay here. He needs to loosen the chain and there is only one to do that. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note10" name="note10"></a><sup>1</sup>asa'malin - sister <sup><a href="#return10">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. "All I ever wanted"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorian has some feelings and Iron Bull/Hissrad/<em>Whatever</em> is part of them.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It is only the need for secrecy and keeping up appearances that prevents Dorian electrocuting the Iron Bull. The temptation is still there as he steps into his room in Skyhold, slamming the door. He’ll have to apologize to Mahanon later, but he needs space right now. Needs to process the fact that he’s not the only one who remembers the future and the other one is the Iron. Fucking. Bull.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Nothing personal...</span>
  </em>
  <span>bas</span>
  <em>
    <span>.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The words ring through his mind. The last words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hisrad</span>
  </em>
  <span> said to them before attacking and destroying everything that had been built.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something crashes to the floor and he flinches. Sparks dance along the broken glass and metal of some decorative piece. Dorian sighs, kneels beside and starts picking up the pieces. He can’t recall what it could have been, but his focus hasn’t been on the decorations around the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could handle seeing an Iron Bull who hadn’t betrayed any of them yet. Could deal with the pleasant lingering feelings that made a nuisance of themselves. But he’s not sure he can work with Hissrad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door. Hesitant and light and he sighs, drops the bit of glass he’d been fiddling with back to the floor. “Just a moment!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian bushes what he can into a pile and heads to the door. “I’m sorry for rushing off like that, Inquisitor. I guess-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not Mahanon on the other side of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dorian,” Hissrad says, “could we talk?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s tempting to slam the door in his face, but people are milling about and the Inquisition needs to keep up a unified front. He clenches his jaw, jerks his head and steps to the side so Hissrad can enter. Electricity burns at his fingers as he crosses his arms and leans against the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad looks around. Looks uncomfortable but Dorian can’t tell if it is an act or reality. “So, uh, how are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HOW AM I?!” he snaps. “THAT’S what you decide to start with?! I’ll tell you how I am: I’m pissed and this fucking close to deciding it’s worth the hassle of making something up to explain why I killed you!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You turned on Mahanon when we needed more fucking help than another damned betrayal. You twisted people around, broke the Chargers, and didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care at all!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nothing that happened mattered! You threw it all away on the order of </span>
  <em>
    <span>one fucking person</span>
  </em>
  <span>!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even know the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> that happened after with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Solas</span>
  </em>
  <span>-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened with Solas?” Hissrad interrupts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s concern on his face and Dorian hisses at him, “Don’t. Interrupt. Me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hissrad.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hissrad flinches as though he’s been punched. The words holding a greater effect than the sparks on his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> went to shit. One thing after a-fucking-nother and at the end Mahanon was barely holding shit together! Krem died with the others! Solas destroyed the entire world! And now I’m in the past with no clue how I fucking got here!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell anyone. They’ll think I’m crazy! So I go through the motions. Play the ‘Happy, helpful Tevinter’ to try and keep things from going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> again. Only, now I’m not alone! Celebration! But wait! It’s the Qunari spy who betrayed us who remembers!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice cracks, “I thought you were different. That you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> for yourself instead of following orders, but you didn’t. All I ever wanted was a relationship I didn’t have to watch my back for. You destroyed that, Hissrad. Give me one reason I shouldn’t kill you now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Iron Bull.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian blinks, taken aback, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I remembered, when the Breach opened in the sky and I found myself alive again, I...made a choice. As far as I’m concerned, I’m Tal’Vashoth. I’ll use the Qun as long as I can, but the moment they try something like that again, I’m not doing it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares. That...isn’t what he was expecting. Dorian actually takes a moment to </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span>, sees the green braid tied to the belt, and swallows. Something that wasn’t ever broken between them. Truth in a green band.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian turns away, stares at the broken thing on the floor, “Alright. I...can’t trust you like that again. But...I won’t stop you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t ask you to, Dorian,” Hiss-Iron Bull(?) says and leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door clicks closed and he counts to ten before slumping against the wall. He slides to the floor. Closes his eyes and rests his head against his knees. It feels like a weight has lifted from his mind and he’s too exhausted to think about it right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still has to talk with Mahanon later. Apologize for the way he acted. But he can take a moment to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian’s lip twitches up. The Mahanon at the end of the world would have been happy he’s taking a moment to himself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. "I told you so"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They're at Skyhold, again. He's not having a good day, though.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is reference to vomiting in this chapter so just be aware of that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His feet are swinging over the drop. The ground is far below and staring at it makes his head spin, but it is a feeling that doesn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin so he keeps staring.
</p><p>Skyhold. Tarasyl’an Te’las.
</p><p>If it were up to anyone else, he would feel uncomfortable in the hold that once housed the Dread Wolf, but his feelings are not decided by anyone else. One of the only things he can trust fully. The Secret and the Reality are included in that as well. A truth forgotten and a history he doesn’t want to see come true.
</p><p>His mind is quiet. No whispers from the Secret and the Reality is calm on the shoreline.
</p><p>“Something certain. Grounding. It’s so far away, makes me dizzy, but it’s true. True like...I can’t hear what it is like.”
</p><p>He tips his head back, smiles, “Hello Cole. Are you settling in alright?”
</p><p>Cole frowns, turns to the courtyard, “They’re arguing. They haven’t noticed I’m not there.” He looks back at him, “You are hurting. It was loud and tangled together and I try to hear it, but I can’t.”
</p><p>“That’s alright, Cole. I’m not always sure of things myself.”
</p><p>Cole’s head tilts, “Like when we meet. You didn’t remember your name. Not until he said it.”
</p><p>“Some things are more complicated than that, but yes.” He pulls his legs up, stands, “Let’s go deal with their argument.”
</p><p>Cole follows him, a silent shadow that splits off as he passes the injured on the way to the trio. Solas turns as he approaches, Vivienne and Cassandra looking at him as they halt their conversation.
</p><p>“Inquisitor,” Vivienne says and the ground feels unstable under him, “we were discussing this...thing.”
</p><p>“Cole is a spirit, Enchanter,” Solas says. His voice is tense. He knew that before, too, did his best to keep the calm.
</p><p>It didn’t work.
</p><p>“It is a demon and must be dealt with as such.”
</p><p>Vivienne’s words are cutting and he can’t quite help the flinch they cause. The Secret huddles close, hisses words he can’t hear.
</p><p>“If you prefer,” Solas says and he latches onto the words. “Though the truth is somewhat more complex.”
</p><p>Laughter traps itself in his chest, bubbles there to choke him with its intensity. He wishes he was still staring at the valley floor. The ground felt solid then.
</p><p>“Cole helped with the Envy demon,” he hears his voice say. “If he hadn’t, I’m not sure I would be alive right now.”
</p><p>Vivienne looks uncomfortable, arms crossed over her chest, “That was before we knew what it was. Demons often wear the guise of help to get close to the living.”
</p><p>“Cole wants to help, Lady Vivienne. And I have already agreed to let him stay.” How is his voice so steady? The earth is unsteady. Rolling yet not and his stomach twists.
</p><p>“Honoring deals with demons is a fast path to an early grave,” she snaps.
</p><p>He feels like he’s on a frozen sea. Can feel the water moving under him, twisting, but the surface doesn’t move.
</p><p>“I didn’t make a deal. Cole told me he wanted to help and I <em>promised</em> him a place if he wanted it.”
</p><p>“I told you as such, Enchanter. This was already discussed and decided on before you gave your opinion.”
</p><p>He can’t see. Colors swirl together and it hurts. They’re still talking--arguing--but he can’t pay attention to it. It’s all noise, buzzing in his ears and making his head spin.
</p><p>“Swaying, swaying. It’s too steady, but I know it’s not. Hurts to be here. Unsteady, off balance. I’m going to-”
</p><p>His throat burns as he coughs. Bile and the little bit of food he’s been able to eat come up. He feels wood in his hands, digs his nails into it for something <em>solid</em>. A hand on his back, brushing his hair out of his face. Ellana? No, too rough, too big, too warm.
</p><p>Solas.
</p><p>Soft words close to his ear and he latches onto it to drown out the Secret’s hisses.
</p><p><a id="return11" name="return11"></a>“-, Lethallin<sup><a href="#note11">1</a></sup>? You’re bleeding, can you let go of the bucket?”
</p><p>He shakes his head. The ground isn’t there, but this is. He can’t let go of it.
</p><p>“Alright, lethallin. Can I hold your hand? Or would that be too much?”
</p><p>The warmth is grounding, burns the cold away. One finger. That’s the response he needs. The hand on his back moves down his arm, wraps around his wrist and his hand falls limp.
</p><p>“Are you alright, Mahanon?”
</p><p>Mahanon blinks. The world is too bright, too loud but he doesn’t feel like he’s falling-not-falling anymore. Solas is kneeling next to him, one hand holding his while the other rests on Mahanon’s neck.
</p><p>“Darling,” Vivienne says and Mahanon barely keeps from flinching though his fingers shake, “if you are not feeling well, you should see the healers.”
</p><p>“I-I’m just tired,” Mahanon fights out.
</p><p>“I will go with him,” Solas says, helping him up. “Make sure he gets to his room safely.”
</p><p>His feet are numb and Mahanon stumbles, only staying upright thanks to Solas’ grip. Luckily, no one stops them and he collapses as soon as he’s near his bedroll. Solas keeps holding his hand, brushes the other over Mahanon’s hair.
</p><p><a id="return12" name="return12"></a>“Rest, da’eir<sup><a href="#note12">2</a></sup>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note11" name="note11"></a><sup>1</sup>lethalin - blood kin, very close friend<sup><a href="#return11">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note12" name="note12"></a><sup>2</sup>da'eir - little snow<sup><a href="#return12">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. "Watch me"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Turns out most of them actually remember the future they have collectively decided to prevent. Even the Iron Bull.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Sera! You can’t shoot him!” Dorian yells, grabbing Sera and trying to wrestle her bow away from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch me! He deserves it for what he did!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iron Bull is standing near the door and Cassandra is wishing she had her sword on her so she could take a swing at him. She supposes she could punch him, but that’s more likely to hurt her than him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wondering if you remembered,” Leliana says. “You were quite good at acting as though you didn’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rainer sighs, runs a hand through his hair, “I’m going to guess you figured the rest of us out pretty quickly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Josephine says, “for the most part. I told Leliana myself as did Cullen and Varric and Cassandra were not exactly hiding from what I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the shit can’t I shoot him then?” Sera demands from where she is trying to get Dorian off of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Tal’Vashoth,” Iron Bull says. “Have been almost as long as I remembered.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra looks over at Leliana for her opinion on the truth of what Iron Bull said and sighs at the accepting tip of a head she’s given. “Know that if you do anything like that again, we will kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iron Bull nods in acknowledgement, “Dorian told me the same thing. I do have a question about the situation, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Leliana asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess it’s two, technically,” Bull says. “Lavellan. Does he remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra shifts in place, can feel the unease in the others as they do the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Inquisitor has been difficult for us to determine, darling,” Vivienne sighs. “It has become rather obvious there are things we should have noticed and missed due to a number of complicating factors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And this time we’re paying closer attention,” Blackwall adds. “Makes it kind of hard to tell if any of what you’re seeing is a result of remembering or you just didn’t notice it before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is the same sort of situation with Solas,” Leliana says, rocking onto her toes. “He is acting far closer to how he did last time to truly be certain either way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull leans against the door, “Leads into my other question: What happened with Solas? I know he left once Corypheus was taken care of, but he came back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra glances at the others. It is not too surprising he wasn’t told about the circumstances around the situation at the Exalted Council given what they know of the Qun, but it is...not something any of them have enjoyed talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Varric breaks the silence, “He’s Fen’Heral.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull stares, “The Elven betrayer god?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. "I missed this"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The only thing good about Halamshiral in his opinion: There's not much for him to actually <em>do</em>.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Morrigan leaves and Mahanon slumps against the banister. Halamshiral is difficult to be in. Painful in so many ways and only some of them are able to be spoken about. The Secret has been screaming since they got here. Hates the history of this place and what it now stands for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s footsteps behind him, light but odd scuffs from shoes. He turns his head to see Solas in the stupid hat he insisted on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas steps next to him, rests a hand just beside Mahanon’s, “You handled it well, for all of your concerns coming in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hums, tilts his head, “Your help with tonight was...Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was unsure how you would approach the situation this time,” Solas says. “I did not wish to risk causing you more pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon smiles, tips his head back and closes his eyes, “There wasn’t...too great of one. The entire thing has too many threads.” He opens his eyes, stares into the night sky, “Do you agree with my decision?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><a id="return12" name="return12"></a>“I have my own opinions, da’eir<sup><a href="#note12">1</a></sup></span>
  <span>. Do not linger on what others would approve of. Not now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His chest feels heavy, his left forearm filled with pins, “Ma vhenan, I did not ask if you approved. It is...difficult for me to decide if it was right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas hums, his hand covers Mahanon’s, pulls him away from the banister, “What is right is rarely easy to say. I was not paying much attention to human politics after I left and will trust your judgement on your choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Words are at the tip of his tongue and they want to spill out. How Celene turned a blind eye against the brutality once it started. How Briala argued with her and wound up dead for it. The countless elvhen dead too much for Mahanon to justify Celene’s life this time. And yet, none of that comes out of his lips, held in place by a muzzle for all the Reality rails against it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Mahanon bows his head in acknowledgement, turns back to the little he can see of Halamshiral. Briala cares for the elves. Without Celene, more progress will be made for all the court will fight it tooth and nail. It...will hopefully be better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><a id="return13" name="return13"></a>“Ma eir’es<sup><a href="#note13">2</a></sup></span>
  <span>,” Solas says, a hand turning his face to look at him. “Now is not the time to dwell. Dance with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon huffs, smile playing at his lips, “You wish to dance? After all that’s happened tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do believe we have danced after worse situations, but I would understand if you do not wish to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He steps closer, free hand lifting to be caught by Solas’, “I wasn’t saying no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas smiles, repositions and leads Mahanon into familiar steps. It doesn’t match the music coming from the Grand Hall; too slow, too fast, just right for them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes, rests his head on Solas’ shoulder. The motion of it is soothing, relaxing and the Secret and Reality calm. They are still alert in an uncomfortable way, but it is easier to ignore them now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I missed this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm... It helps, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hums in agreement and quiet falls between them. Soon it will be back to the careful distance. Back to weighing every choice against his life until he can rip off the chains. Back to watching the others dance around as though they do not remember.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For now, though, he can lose himself in Solas’ warmth and the motions of their dance.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note12" name="note12"></a><sup>1</sup>Da'eir - little snow<sup><a href="#return12">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note13" name="note13"></a><sup>2</sup>Ma eir'es - my snow<sup><a href="#return13">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. "You better leave now"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cole doesn't understand what's happening. Why he feels this has happened before.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cole feels something twist, pull tight. The veil tears and something is familiar about it, but he can’t place what. He watches, though. Listens to the templars and the growing hurt he’s not sure how to help. Envy paints red inside of the commanders as others start gathering outside the hold and he’s seen this before. Knows who will come and how to help when he does even though Cole has never done this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is strange. He shouldn’t know, but he does. He’s not sure what that means.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tension grows. Envy hissing in a voice only he can hear and Cole worries. Mahanon should be here, will be here, but there’s something wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Fade rolls and Cole clutches his head. Something’s wrong, pulling and stretching and folding in a way it shouldn’t. He feels stretched out. Ripping along seams he didn’t realize were there. Is this what dying is? Cole doesn’t like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything snaps back. Rights and marks are still there, but mending fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t have time for this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are only there for a moment. Cole tries to reach for more, but Mahanon has always been difficult to hear and that was when he was right next to him. The little he can feel is rooted in determination, exhaustion. He’s coming. There’s something… pulling, but not enough to rip away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole perches, watches and waits. Others are here--ones he recognizes but doesn’t understand how--and they are keeping the red from spreading, but not for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon rides up. Slips off the running hart and storms to the gates, ignoring the lord trying to talk to him. Cole feels more from him now. Old anger refreshed mixed with new and annoyance and tired. If it wasn’t here, Cole would get him to sleep, but it is here and sleep would not help. Later it will, but not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He listens to the templar--Barris--and though the request is done fast, Mahanon does it and enters the hold. Cole listens, hears the breaking of the tension and the beginning of fighting. Mahanon snarls (the Fade twists with it, that didn’t happen last time) and slits the throat of the templar going for his back. They go up, reach Envy and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Envy pushes into Mahanon, Cole follows but it hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s wrong. Still, but not in a good way and he clutches his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cole,” Mahanon says and that’s wrong. He hasn’t introduced himself yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cole. You need to leave. Now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole shakes his head, tries to look at where he is, “If I go, I can’t help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand on his head, tipping his chin up and Mahanon’s hair is wrong. The way he wore it at the end not the beginning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you stay here, Cole, you won’t be able to help at all. I can handle this on my own, you can feel that, right, Cole?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can. He’ll wait. Keep the others safe. He thinks he hears ‘Hello, Deceit.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world shifts back and Cole stumbles. Shakes his head and can’t remember why he feels off balance. The demon falls back through the door, contorts and it is simple to follow what happened last time. Mahanon smiles at him, but there’s wrongness to the edges and he can’t find what causes it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything happens. Things are different, the end is different, but not by much and the wrongness still clings to Mahanon. Refuses to let go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole follows. To help, to understand. To try and make the wrongness disappear. Night falls and he steps into the camp, sits next to the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. I...did not expect a guest?” someone--Solas, it’s Solas--says. “Was he in the Redoubt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon hums and he can feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Helping. Guiding. Tells me how to stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Shows where they are. Helping. Always helps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Cole. I...was going to talk to you about him when we got back to Haven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it he...helped you, Mahanon? In the Redoubt?” Something in Solas’ voice. Shouldn’t be there yet but it is. Does he feel the oddness too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, haren. Yes,” Mahanon replies and the wrongness has gone. Cole tips his head, stares. It will be back, but for now it is gone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. "Not interested thank you"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A situation Mahanon has found himself in before and likely will again. He's more confused about Solas.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The warning about violence is in relation to this chapter. Please be aware.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mahanon runs a hand through his hair, loose to be washed and taken care of. He’ll have to be more careful in future to not get blood and guts splattered all over himself as access to a place he can wash up is not going to always be available. Still, they are taking a break as they wait for word from Cullen on the outposts Bron recommended and he will take advantage of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ducks under the water, scrubs the paste from his scalp. His hair feels odd when he surfaces and he spares a thought to mixing his own when he manages to find the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A branch cracks behind him and it is hard to fight his automatic tensing. Mahanon turns his head, looks through the curtain his hair makes, and swallows at the unfamiliar human. His belongings are on the other shore, out of reach of the shem, yet still within his. This situation is rarely good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must be hard traveling on your own,” the man says. “You could always come with me. Just me and some friends fleeing the apostates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t respond, shifts closer to his knives. The actual meaning in the words is clear and he wonders if he can come up with an acceptable excuse for killing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a warning in the man’s voice, “I’m being nice, knife-ear. I’d say it’s best for you to be nice back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon shifts his head, keeps an eye on the human as he reaches back, “Not interested. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not-? You little- Your lot are nothing more than-,” the human snarls, steps into the river.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He throws the knife, embeds it in the man’s throat. The human falls to his knees, reaching up to pull it out, but Mahanon reaches it first. Yanks it to the side and the human gurgles as he collapses into the river. Turning, he dips the knife into the water to wash off the blood and makes his way back to his supplies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He freezes. Solas is standing there, staring at Mahanon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That seemed experienced,” Solas says. His tone is careful, non accusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You learn how to defend yourself if it comes to it,” Mahanon replies. “You learn how to tell who means harm or worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas nods as though he understands and maybe he does, though he lacks the specific looks that make elves ‘particularly appealing’. “I was going to assist, but you had it handled. It hurts this happened in the first place, but I am pleased you are fine. You are fine, yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lips quirk up, “Yes. Thank you for the concern.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon steps out, picks up his tunic and pulls it on. His hair soaks the fabric and makes it uncomfortable, but he doubts Cassandra or Varric would like to see him without clothes as he would have with his clan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes strands out of his face, looks at Solas to ask something and frowns. Solas’ ears are red and he has turned his face away, looking fast at the opposite river bank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas coughs, “Yes. I just- Ah- Yes. I am fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon’s frown deepens, not buying the reply, but he can feel the discomfort rolling off of Solas so he lets it go.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. "I never wanted anything else"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mahanon was killed and Solas regrets far too much.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Solas paces the cell. Counts the steps and flexes his fingers. He never realized how bad the red lyrium was though he had theories enough he refused to use it himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stumbles, leg cramping, and loses count. This isn’t anything he wanted. Mahanon is gone, the world corrupted and fallen to Corypheus, and there is nothing he can do. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pushed to learn what was going on in Redcliffe. Mahanon would still be alive if he hadn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door creaks open and Solas doesn’t bother turning. It is either a guard bringing food or more prisoners and not worth the time he has left worrying about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma vhenan…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas flinches. A hallucination? But there are signs before this, the corrupted song sounding sweet and it still grates his mind. A demon…?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Solas, please look at me,” it says and he can’t deny it. Can’t when he has already done his best to ignore Mahanon before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns. Mahanon is standing there, but something isn’t right. He’s wearing the armor of the early Inquisition, before he had the time to make his own, but he holds himself the way he did at the end. A mashup of memories, perhaps?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re thinking too hard, ma vhenan,” it says. “Alexius sent us to the future.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thoughts pause, spin a different direction, “You-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I remember. I just...can’t do a whole lot about the past. Certain things are keeping me from doing a lot of things I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><a id="return14" name="return14"></a>He shakes his head, “Ir abelas, ma vhenan.<sup><a href="#note14">1</a></sup></span>
  <span> I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t, Solas,” Mahanon says and it falls completely different knowing he remembers. “It was never- You were-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solas frowns, steps closer and just keeps himself from reaching out. Words always seemed difficult, but this is something else. “Mahanon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon shudders, head falling to his shoulder, and Solas freezes. “I don’t think we have the time for me to find a way to explain. Dorian thinks he can get us back and I know he can. Help us, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I will.” It scares him how easy the words are to say. How it feels as though they have been on the tip of his tongue for years, but he never noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon pulls back, smile pulling at his lips, “I never wanted anything else. We should find Dorian.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes sense. Of course it does, but… “You should tell me. When you get back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon pauses, looks down, “I don’t know if I can. I have more leeway here and I can’t tell you. But” his marked hand flexes and Solas realises he isn’t looking at the ground “maybe there’s something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is so much in what Mahanon said. So much he wants to puzzle out and ask questions on, but it won’t be for him </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> piece together. Solas is dying. Yet there is a version of himself Mahanon will return to and he hopes that version will be able to do what he cannot.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note14" name="note14"></a><sup>1</sup>Ir abelas, ma vhenan - I'm sorry, my heart<sup><a href="#return14">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. "Give me a minute or an hour"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aftermath of Adamant. The second time. His arm hurts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Inquisitor,” Cullen says, resting a hand on his shoulder, “I will need your report of what happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, “I know. Just, give me a minute. Or an hour.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just came out of the Fade. Again. Take all the time you need. I’ll talk with the others first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits until Cullen’s footsteps are swallowed up then he slides to the floor. Clutches his arm to his chest. The chain is spasming. Tightening and loosening uncontrollably and it’s been all he could do to stay standing. This is so much worse than when it was killing him, before Solas took his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dealing with the wardens was always going to be a mess. No seemingly right answer when they enter the dance too late. And yet the story has been changed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stroud and Hawke both left the Fade. Another spirit showed up, took the focus of the Nightmare, and let them run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chain doesn’t know what to do. It was not his actions that lead to this shift so it cannot tighten and at the same time, things have shifted and it must to make up for it. So it spasms. Twists and slices worse than anything he’s felt before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Warmth brushes down his back and he seeks out the comfort it provides. An arm wraps around him, guides him somewhere else. A hand holds his and the pain eases. Seeps out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rest. There is much left to do, but you need to rest first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs, curls into the voice. Sleeps.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. "You don't see it?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Leliana knows too much. And she isn't sure how she should explain it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Leliana taps the war table. There is far too much she could do with the knowledge of what happens. Resources once used to gain information no longer needed since she already has them and yet she must come up with a reason as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It is lucky she was not the only one to travel back to this point, but the others who didn’t will have questions she’ll have to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opens and she looks up. Josephine closes the door behind her and steps up to the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it weird that I miss the table in Skyhold?” she asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana looks down. Space is a luxury on this table. Something they have to be careful with so they do not cover something up they will need. “No. I miss it as well. More space and more jobs already done means it would be easier to add or remove a pin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it really be worth the risk of not sending people to take care of things again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will depend on the mission. I’ve been making a list of the ones I can remember and what came of it, but my memory is only so good when lacking a reminder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josephine picks up one of the pins, turns it over in her hand as she thinks. Leliana leaves her to it. Tries to recall the earlier missions that got swept up in the ones later on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I received a letter from Clan Lavellan,” Josephine says. “I will be giving it to the Inquisitor once he returns from the Hinterlands and will recommend your services in replying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rocks back on her feet, “Oh, Josie. It wasn’t your fault.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I do know that. It does not change that I built the alliance with Duke Anton and failed to realize the influence the venatori were building there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana takes the pin from Josephine’s hand, “You don’t see it? The past happened and it will do us no good to ignore it, but we have a chance to change the outcome. Lavellan panicked in an understandable way last time and we did not have very good advice on the situation as a whole. This time we do. And we can apply the same thinking to many of the other missions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Josephine sighs, “Yes. That is a good point. Which ones do you remember? I’ll see if I can add anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll have to get Cullen in here. Make it a party!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs and Leliana counts it as a win. Things have been riddled with tension as they figure things out and while it is something that makes sense at the moment--particularly with Solas present and unaware of what happens--, they will eventually have to act that they have things handled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana bites her lip. It would be helpful if the Inquisitor remembered, but everything is pointing to him being unaware. It places more weight on their shoulders, but they can handle it if it results in a better world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or one where everything wasn’t going to the void every other month.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. "I can't do this anymore"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Solas is planning something stupid. Mahanon will stop him. <strike>(He's tired.)</strike></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>His breath hurts and he’s positive that his ribs are broken, but he can’t let Solas interfere with time. No one knows enough about time magic to not cause more damage than good. Mahanon might not </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> what has happened, but he can live with it. Can live in this world that is burning around them. But he wouldn’t see it destroyed for a past already gone. One that was deemed bad enough Solas destroyed it himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Egill at least is able to keep moving when any other mount would have died.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky is the grey of pre-dawn when he finally feels the pressure of the Fade pressing past the veil. Warping as it is twisted. Mahanon jumps off Egill, the horse shaking its head as its focus shifts to battle, and he runs. Follows the thickness to the source. His ears are ringing and he feels dizzy but he can’t pass out here. Not when everything is at steak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas is standing in the center of some ruins. He wants to stop, explore and figure out what they were, but he can’t. Not now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma vhenan, come to stop me?” Solas asks, glancing at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t flinch at the endearment. Can’t let himself. “This is madness. Trying to turn back time is dangerous. Dorian made that clear when he gave us everything he could about what happened at Redcliffe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas’ jaw tightens, “And a human would know so much more than me? Magic is my life. A tool I have spent thousands of years perfecting and this merely takes a careful hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>S̵o̷m̶e̸t̸h̵i̶n̶g̶'̵s̸ ̸w̸r̶o̸n̶g̷.̷</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His head hurts and he shakes it, “I don’t care what you think you know: Time is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> something you can just play around with!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It will be another chance to right the wrongs that have happened. This will be forgotten and a new world raised in its place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̷T̸h̶i̷s̴ ̵p̵l̵a̴c̵e̴ ̷f̴e̵e̴l̶s̵ ̷w̶r̴o̸n̴g̸.̴</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He clutches his hands </span>
  <strike>
    <span>(hand, he only has the right one. Why did he think hands?)</span>
  </strike>
  <span> and snarls. “You would throw away everything that’s happened. Everything we had. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>a chance</span>
  </em>
  <span> you could fix something </span>
  <em>
    <span>no one</span>
  </em>
  <span> would survive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seems to get to Solas. He turns his head, looks away. Solas’ grip on his staff tightens.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ȧ̷̲s̵̮̓ ̵͇̐ã̴̪m̴̧̈́ã̵̘ẖ̵̆n̶̤̕.̴̨͌</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A chill runs down his spine. Something is watching him, but he can’t risk looking away. The others will be following. He told Sera to tell them it was time magic and follow as fast as they could. They can deal with anything behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it doesn’t change the right now. With Solas in front of him ready to destroy everything without a care.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̷̜̀T̸̳́ḧ̷͇́i̸͉̔s̴̮͗ ̶̺̋i̶̖̒s̵͎̉n̵̼̕'̴̱̅t̸̯̒ ̷̨̎h̷̤̆i̸̖̚ṃ̴̂.̶̠̓</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps forward, “Vhenan. What’s the point of losing everything? No matter what, it would not be the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas tips his head and he might actually be getting through. Might be convincing Solas it isn’t worth it. His hand twitches, wants to reach forward and grab Solas, but he can’t. Not yet. </span>
  <strike>
    <span>(Why not?)</span>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please leave, ma vhenan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̵̠͊Ḑ̵̈o̸͉͐n̴̼̕'̶̻͊t̶̯̽ ̴̪͒c̶̗͊ā̸̙l̶͔̄l̷̩̉ ̸͕̎m̴̙̂ē̸̜ ̵̻̂t̶̲̕h̷͎̄a̸̫͌t̵̖̂.̸̾ͅ</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He winces. Can’t help it and clutches at his left arm. Phantoms are gripping it; spearing pain through it. His head hurts. He can’t catch his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas doesn’t turn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why? He always did. Whenever something happened, Solas was the first to look, find him. Make sure he was fine. Something’s wrong and it can’t just be the plan to turn back time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span≯̳̒I̷͔͗t̷͓̋ ̵̈́ͅw̶͔̔ä̴̗s̷̟ ̵̝̔n̷͔̒ẹ̸̐v̵͖̏e̷̞͒r̷͕̈ ̶̪͒h̷̥͒i̸̫̿m̸̟͝.̷͍̎</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There are hands grabbing him, circling his throat and tightening. Something is off. A shade too light or dark but he can’t tell the difference. Shouldn’t he be able to?</span>
</p><p>
  <strike>
    <span>(He can. He needs- Let him-)</span>
  </strike>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̶̜͝H̷͉̎ō̷̭ẁ̶̭ ̴̨̚l̷̅͜ö̷̥́n̶͎͆g̴̝̒.̴͉̑.̶̖̔.̷̝̔?̷̞</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something cold on his chest. Warm and wet spreads from it and shouldn’t he be worried? </span>
  <strike>
    <span>(Tegrof dna peels ot og tsuj. Ti tuoba yrrow ton od. T'nsi ti.)</span>
  </strike>
  <span> No. It is. He should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something presses on his head and the world tips on its side. What is he doing? He’s so tired. He should just lay down. Sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̵̦̉Ĭ̴͓ ̷̼̂c̵̺͘a̴̩͗n̵̨'̸̢͑t̷̬͌.̴̮.̸̹̄.̴͖͘</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground is soft, he thinks. Smells nice and is warm. There’s a voice, he thinks. He can’t tell what it is saying but it can’t be important. It feels like someone is brushing his hair back. He thinks maybe he should be annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is so hard, though. So much easier to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̶͈́.̵̠͛.̸̙̊.̵̜͋d̶̯̈o̸͚̽ ̸̡͑t̸̓ͅḩ̸̓ỉ̸͍s̸͓̀.̵̥̇.̶͍́.̷̘͋</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears a scream. Smells fire and lightning in the air. He should figure out what is going on. He’s so tired though. He just wants to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>̷̰̽.̷̢̉.̸̤.̸̖͂á̴̻n̷̂ͅy̸̗͊m̸̻̓o̸̮r̸̗̂ë̷͓́.̷̻̓</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ᏍᏫ ႶᏫᎿ ೯ᏫᏒⳒᏋᎿ.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. "Did I ask?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vivienne remembers and she will use this as a blade to shape the future that should have been.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Vivienne does view Mahanon as a tool to use and not necessarily as someone with his own wants, needs, and views.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She snaps. Freezes the unfortunate fool in place and descends the stairs. Words flow off her tongue with the long ease of practice and Vivienne approaches the elf who will become the Inquisitor. Her eyes glance over Cassandra, spot the unease she wears as a second skin in this setting, and she wonders who is in a position to influence this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne looks to Alphonse, “Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?” She turns, “My dear, you are the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisitor looks between her and the frozen noble. Last time, he told her to let him go. She wonders what he will do this time. How the other who remembers has influenced him up until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Marquis doesn’t interest me,” he says and she can’t help the smile that flicks at her lips. “Do whatever you like with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers release the spell with a snap. It is the work of simple words to rip apart whatever social standing he had left to pieces and Alphonse slinks out of the chateau. Vivienne smiles, brushes along the Inquisitor’s arm to lead him aside, “I’m delighted you could attend. I’ve so wanted to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The future Inquisitor glances at Cassandra who nods and Vivienne wonders what that is about. Still, it can wait. She needs to become involved with the Inquisition and this is the best way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Vivienne,” she says, turning to him. “First Enchanter of Montsimmard and enchantress to the Imperial Court.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You invited me here. What is it you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne stares at him. She had forgotten the lack of tack he held this early in the Inquisition. “I wanted to meet face to face. Considering one’s connections needs a careful hand. The Divine is dead and the Chantry is in shambles, yet the faithful flock to you. Pin their hopes on you to deliver them from chaos.” She tips her head, watches his face so young and open, “As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it is my duty to lend my assistance to your cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Inquisitor’s face shutters and he looks away from her, “The offer you present is generous, Lady Vivienne. However, it is something I would not be able to decide on my own at this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hides her surprise, “Oh? Is something the matter, my dear?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last night, we happened to cross paths with a mage who attempted to kill me,” he states and she keeps her face schooled. “The information we’ve been able to get since says he is part of the loyal mages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne doesn’t remember this. Perhaps it was something swept up in everything that happened or kept away from her ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is why Seeker Cassandra came with me,” he continues. He looks at her and she can’t read his expression, “If you want an answer tonight, I would talk with her. Otherwise it may take some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, darling. Please enjoy the salon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watches him nod to her and head back down the hall. Given she is the host and needs to talk with Cassandra, she follows. None of the other guests have made to mingle with Cassandra who stands on her own and Vivienne approaches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear, the Herald said I should speak with you about my request,” she says, eyeing Cassandra. It is possible she is the one who remembers and it would not be advantageous to let slip here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra dips her head, aware of the court conduct for all she prefers to ignore it, “May I ask what it is first?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would offer my services to the Inquisition. He said I should bring it up with you due to a recent incident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cassandra stares at her. Stares for such a length of time Vivienne worries perhaps she might be unaware of the situation the Inquisitor brought up. That is, of course, when she speaks, “While the connections you have with the...loyal mages will be watched and gone over before any use of them is made, the other connections and your experience would be welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiles, tilts her head, “I shall meet you in Haven, then. Do have a relaxing evening, my dear. You never know what will come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, as Vivienne is dressing down for the night, she pauses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Inquisition is?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. "This, this makes it all worth it"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Haven has fallen and the Inquisition is once more on its way to Skyhold. He wishes the others would give him space.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He can feel Solas’ eyes digging into him as they walk. Solas had wanted to talk, discuss the notes he gave before the Breach was closed, but there hasn’t been an opportunity. The fall into the cave and walk through the snow was harder this time. More exhausting and the others have been sticking close, ensuring Solas is either never alone or dealing with something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is annoying and makes him wish for his clan. They are far better at reading into what he can’t say, but it would be difficult to explain </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> they are here when they weren’t before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is quickly becoming one of the times the Reality oozes over the shore, stretching to consume everything before the Secret snarls back at it or something pulls it to heel. The best he can do for now is ignore it. Focus on something else. Food. The people need food. He can do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Day is creeping into the sky when he returns. Rabbits strung over his shoulder and a ram dragging through the snow. It’s not a lot, but it is more than they had before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mahanon-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gasps, stumbles. The Reality roils, compresses and Mahanon can </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Can breathe easier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand on Mahanon’s arm, wrapped around him to keep him standing. Warm and rough and not Ellana’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not mean to startle you,” Solas says, carefully pulling back--away. “The others were worried when you disappeared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. He’s not with his clan. They don’t understand the way his family does. “I needed- It wasn’t- There-” Mahanon growls and looks away, glares at the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You required some space? And they were not allowing it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Half right. Mahanon needed the space, needed his name. Ellana would have known that, recognized it, but she’s not here. He told her to stay away until 9:44. Told them all to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Half.” Solas should understand. There’s not much to hide in words when it is only one, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas sighs, “I don’t think we have the time for me to guess. We should return to the nights camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon nods, words stuck in his throat. He shifts his grip on the ram and looks for the string of rabbits only to blink as he spots them in Solas’ grip. “Up for skinning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks at Mahanon, startled, “It is- You would accept my help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I?” Mahanon asks, tilting his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You- The notes you gave me-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Ellana wrote them, but there were still parts she couldn’t figure out. Maybe he didn’t understand them? “What about them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You remember. Why let me get close?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s something Mahanon can’t say. The words rest on the tip of his tongue, but they have never been spoken. He shakes his head, “I can’t, explain. Don’t ask me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They return in silence. The camp slowly wakes up and he watches the people around him. Shem. But, they didn’t deserve to die. None of the people now or that the Reality remembers deserved death. Breakfast is prepared and handed out to be eaten while they travel. He takes up the lead again. Solas still watches him and the others keep closer than he wants, but he can handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a rock he recognizes ahead. He hurries to the ridge, climbs up it and stares. This, this makes it all worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skyhold rises before him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. "And neither should you"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Thom Rainer--Blackwall, right now he suposses--kind of wishes he didn't remember. At least he's not alone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rainer is still unsure how to feel. He’d accepted his mistakes, made peace with them by the time he died. At least he thinks he died. It’s kind of confusing, what he now remembers or maybe it is a dream?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s leaning toward remember given the dreams of Grey Wardens are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> this and the Call is no longer in his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right now, he seems to be on the way to the Hinterlands. The Breach is spreading in the sky and if he really is back in time with the memories of the future, there is no point for him to not help as he can. Mahanon will need the help and he will not go into this the same way. Rainer will find a point to explain--to Mahanon at least--the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes time. He arrives in the Hinterlands, trains some of the locals to deal with bandits, and waits for the Inquisition to approach him. And it does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon comes; Solas, Varric, and Cassandra behind him. There’s something off, but he can’t figure it out before bandits attack. They deal with them and he sends the recruits back, confident they can defend themselves, and turns back to Mahanon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re Inquisition,” he says. “What can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon rocks on his feet and Rainer frowns, “We’re investigating the disappearance of the Wardens and any connection it has to the Conclave explosion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No warden would kill the Divine. Our purpose is not political.” There are little things he’s catching. Cassandra is suspicious of him in a way she never was. Varric doesn’t have the hostility he should. Solas is… Solas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not accusing. Just need information.” Mahanon’s focus isn’t quite here. Somewhere else. “Only found you. Do you know where the rest are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does, but not yet and he’s not sure if he should let on he knows just yet. “I haven’t seen another warden for months. I travel alone mostly. Recruiting if someone’s interested. Not much since the Blight is a decade gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon’s ears twitch up, flicking at something he can’t hear, “Thank you, Warden, for your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns as it hits Rainer what is wrong. This isn’t a Mahanon who doesn’t know him, who hides out of fear and uncertainty. This is a Mahanon who wears a lover’s braid and has lost almost everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” he calls and they stop. Mahanon turns back and there’s a ghost of a smile. “It might not be much, but I would help in whatever way I could. If you would have me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A nod, “The Inquisition accepts your offer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rainer smiles, grabs the stuff he doesn’t want to leave, and joins them as they head to camp. It is strangely difficult to get Mahanon alone and he’s positive Cassandra was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> this vehement about protecting last time. Still, once night has fallen she heads to bed and he gets the chance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you remember with the Breach?” he asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon hums, “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Do you know why I remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. All-” the sentence cuts off, but he thinks he understands. Maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t press. Thank you, for accepting me again. I can’t say if I deserve it, but I didn’t regret what I did with the Inquisition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon nods, doesn’t add anything, but they didn’t really need words by the time whatever happened. Rainer shifts his sword and shield around. They are odd, now, but it is good. Shows this is real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you need it, Mahanon, I can try to be a listening ear. Being alone with stuff like this, it was hard. Too much I wanted to say, but couldn’t figure out if I should. I’m not alone, now, and neither should you be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon shoves his shoulder, “Thank you, Thom.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. "Do we have to?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Quinari attack has come and gone. Now they have to deal with the actual threat. Once Mahanon can actually <em>do</em> anything.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mahanon groans and burrows into the blankets as sunlight shifts through the windows. A rumbling laugh as a hand strokes his hair and he debates hitting Solas in the face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ma eir’es, if we don’t get up, your sister will break my arm. Again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to get up. His limbs are heavy and Mahanon knows once he’s standing it will be hard to remember which way is up. At the same time, though, Solas is right. Just- “Lana will find a reason to anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I did figure that out,” Solas says. “Still, you have been asleep for over a day. I can get you something to eat, if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is a good point and Mahanon nods. Solas pulls himself away, tucking the blankets back in as he does. Mahanon shifts around, cracks open his eyes to look around. Papers and candles are organized in stacks near the blanket nest. Dawn light creeps across the floor and he frowns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light is making his head hurt. That doesn’t bode well for later. For now, at least, he can hide in the blankets and ignore the light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A door creaks from below and low voices drift up. Ellana must be feeling generous if she’s willing to keep her voice from biting at Solas. The two top the stairs. Ellana’s bouncing steps reach his spot first and peels back the layers over his head and runs her fingers through his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isa’malin, let me?” she says and he nods. She hums, pleased, and begins sectioning his hair as he sits up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon hears Solas settle next to them. Wood thumps against stone and he can smell whatever broth was brought up. It’s not that hard to drink it and he enjoys the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will have to keep an eye out for the others,” Solas says. “Today would be the first one that they would be able to arrive if they trouble tying up business elsewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ellana groans, “Do we have to? Most of ‘em don’t seem worth the hassle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lana, they consider me a friend and have been planning how to deal with this for a couple years at this point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><a id="return15" name="return15"></a>“Yeah. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>couple</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And I wouldn’t even consider them marni<sup><a href="#note15">1</a></sup></span>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Don’t kill any of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I do that? It’s better to just break something so they </span>
  <em>
    <span>learn</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel I should share that I am grateful it was you, ma eir’es, that went to the Conclave and not your sister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mahanon snorts and can feel Ellana roll her eyes. He agrees, though possibly for different reasons.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note15" name="note15"></a><sup>1</sup>Marni - your friend<sup><a href="#return15">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. "Are you kidding me"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Turns out <em>Vivienne</em> remember as well.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sera is searching for Lavellan. She can’t remember where he liked hanging around in Haven so it is taking a lot of guesswork. What she does know is he isn’t with the people swinging swords around, at the smith, or talking with Varric or egghead. The only place she hasn’t looked is the Chantry but she’s pretty sure if Shiny is there, it’s for something with the Advisors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, it is the only place she hasn’t looked and she really wants to make sure Shiny isn’t getting buried in stupid shit. She pushes open the door and the good news is Sera spots Lavellan right away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bad news is that Vivi has him trapped in conversation Shiny doesn’t want to be in. He’s tense and too still and her fingers twitch for her bow. An arrow might make Vivi a bit more bearable to be around, but that would be bad. For lots of reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-start building a rapport with the nobility, darling. It will only help in the long run,” Vivienne is saying. “Their support will do much. It could even help rebuild what the malcontents have destroyed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The advice is, appreciated, Lady Vivienne,” Shiny responds. His voice is tight. “Josephine is doing her best-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dear, it would be best for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be extending the offers. A letter from the Herald of Andraste is far more appealing than Lady Montilyet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera frowns, stopping beside a pillar. Vivi hasn’t noticed her yet, though one of Lavellan’s ears twitched in her direction so he knows she’s here. It doesn’t change the </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrongness</span>
  </em>
  <span> in what Vivienne is saying. She’s pretty sure Vivi didn’t get really into pushing for Shiny to become a nob until they were at Skyhold. Always easier to get Inky to go along with some pranks after a ‘lesson’ with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Madame Fancypants did and she just didn’t notice? If she did, Lavellen likely went to egghead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, she’s gonna be a better friend and she can start by pulling him out of this. “Lord Herald! Heard Cassandra say somethin’ ‘bout missing scouts. You gonna need some arrows?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lavellan turns to her and Vivienne frowns, “Sera, I was going to ask if you would come with. Lady Vivienne wanted to talk about some things before I could, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem! Why don’ we go talk ‘bout it over a drink? On you?” she says, making sure to show teeth as she grins and keeps eye contact with the mage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sera, darling,” Vivienne says, resting a hand on her hip, “we were in the middle of an important conversation about things you wouldn’t understand. Why don’t you find some spiders or steal someone’s undergarments?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes narrow. She hasn’t done any of that shit yet. Has yet to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>mention</span>
  </em>
  <span> any ideas like that to someone. “Are you kidding me? You want to talk nob shit when </span>
  <em>
    <span>people</span>
  </em>
  <span> are missing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you said, they are scouts. If they had been any good at their job, they wouldn’t need to be rescued.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?! </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> your fucking view?! No wonder no one likes you, you have the snotty bit perfect and you ain’t even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>nob, Vivvy.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne’s eyes flash in anger and Sera smells the tang of magic. She tenses, not wanting to stand down but the fear runs down her spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough!” Lavellan snaps. “Madame de Fer, talk to Josephine if you are so concerned about the image of the Inquisition. Sera, lets go talk, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hesitates for a moment, glances between the two before nodding, “Fine. I’m gonna get started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sera stalks out, rubbing at her face. She was dealing with shit just fine. It sucked, but she was and now she has to deal with miss ‘Better-Then-Everyone-Here’ remembering the future too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Sera,” Leliana calls and she pauses. “Are you busy right now? I wanted to talk with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was gonna talk with the Herald,” she says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leliana smiles, tips her head and her eyes are way to sharp, “It can wait until you are done then. Please come by as soon as you can, though.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. "Sometimes you can even see me"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The soft one and the hurting one make things difficult. It hurts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hands on his head. They go from the top to his neck and back. It is nice, better than the oppressive weight on his shoulders and across his lap. The person behind him hums but it is not enough to cover the crying and growls.</p>
<p>That’s the other one. The one that bleeds and weeps and he can’t look at them without hurting.
</p>
<p>
  <em><a id="return16" name="return16"></a>Samelava em itha ma.<sup><a href="#note16">1</a></sup></em>
</p>
<p>It is a nice voice. Soft and kind though he doesn’t know what it is saying. Makes the sound of a storm and water curl in his ears and he always wants to hear it. The soft one doesn’t like talking though. Prefers humming.</p>
<p>Something crashes to the ground and he flinches. The hands adjust, keep going over his head. He looks over and the hurting one is collapsed. Curled up and holding themself. Their mouth is moving and he thinks if they had a voice, they would share<em>everything</em>.</p>
<p>He wants to know everything.</p>
<p>
  <a id="return17" name="return17"></a>
  <em>Tel laim mar’lan.</em>
  <sup>
    <a href="#note17">2</a>
  </sup>
</p>
<p>One of the hands tugs his hair, not painful but enough to distract him from the hurting one. The voice was harsher. An aggressive song he doesn’t like. He doesn’t understand though. The soft one likes him learning, why doesn’t it want him to learn from the hurting one?</p>
<p>A scream cuts through the air and he curls up, covers his ears but it does nothing to muffle the sound. It just gets louder and other screams join it. The soft one isn’t here. Gone and he wishes they were. They can make the hurting one<em>stop.</em></p>
<p>
  <a id="return18" name="return18"></a>
  <em>Itha su mah.</em>
  <sup>
    <a href="#note18">3</a>
  </sup>
</p>
<p>He doesn’t <em>understand</em>. He’s sorry he doesn’t, but he <em>can’t</em>. Tell him what he needs to do and he will, but he can’t when he doesn’t understand.</p>
<p>“-Mahanon!” a voice yells and he gasps. Collapses.</p>
<p><a id="return19" name="return19"></a>“<em>Fenedhis</em><sup><a href="#note19">4</a></sup>,” the voice says again.</p>
<p>“<em>Language.</em> Where did you even hear that?” another says.</p>
<p><a id="return20" name="return20"></a>There's a snarl but it is different from the hurting one's, "Not <em>now</em>, hahren<sup></sup><a href="#note20">5</a>. Hurt himself. Bleeding.”</p>
<p>Oh. It’s the one who found him. She’s moving him around and he can’t bring himself to fight it. The hurting one isn’t here anymore. They’ve vanished and the soft one is humming again, but he can’t feel them. It is weird. It is the best he can remember feeling and it makes him start giggling .</p>
<p>“Hey, no. I need you to stay still, okay?”</p>
<p>He does his best, but giggles still escape. She doesn’t get angry with him, though, just reminds him to stay still as she wipes at his head.</p>
<p>“You responded to Mahanon,” she whispers and he doesn’t know why. “Do you want that to be your name?”</p>
<p>He blinks, stares at her. It sounds right, but there’s something different. It feels early, but right and he doesn’t see a reason he can’t be Mahanon now. He likes the name. It makes him smile.</p>
<p><a id="return21" name="return21"></a>“Okay. I’ll tell the Keeper in the morning and we’ll have a mathaan<sup><a href="#note21">6</a></sup> to celebrate.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note16" name="note16"></a><sup>1</sup>Samelava em itha ma. - Sometimes you see me.<sup><a href="#return16">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note17" name="note17"></a><sup>2</sup>Tel laim mar'lan. - Do not lose yourself.<sup><a href="#return17">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note18" name="note18"></a><sup>3</sup>Itha su mah. - Look towards the future.<sup><a href="#return18">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note19" name="note19"></a><sup>4</sup>Fenedhis - common curse word<sup><a href="#return19">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note20" name="note20"></a><sup>5</sup>Hahren - elder<sup><a href="#return20">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note21" name="note21"></a><sup>6</sup>Methaan - feast, lit: large food<sup><a href="#return21">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. "How about you trust me for once"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Iron Bull didn't go to the Deep Roads last time. He kind of wishes he had, now.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Iron Bull kind of wishes he hadn’t volunteered to go to the Storm Coast before he had all of the details as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> they were going to the Coast. The Deep Roads are not a place he ever thought he would go to. He didn’t the first time, but he read and heard what happened last time. The darkspawn, earthquakes that aren’t earthquakes, and dwarves that aren’t quite dwarves. It is probably good the whole Titan thing got swept up in other stuff and he never did tell the Qun about it. This time he took the chance to give Dorian space. They both need it right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, listening to the ongoing and seemingly never stopping not-really-argument Solas and Sera have going on is starting to make him wish he’d just taken a mission with the Chargers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has this been going?” he asks Blackwall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall glances up from his whetstone, “Depends. What are they on at this point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty sure it's something with the Fade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About an hour and a half then. They were going over dormant magic once Vlata and Mahanon disappeared. It’s close enough it shouldn’t have been longer than two hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iron Bull rolls his head, looks around the Legion camp and can’t see anything that he could really help with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s scared. He told her there was more, didn’t expect this. She wants to learn, but at what price? Is it still worth it? It has to be, they need to stop,” Cole says. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squints, unsure </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> that is about. Doesn’t sound good at any rate and figuring it out should be a distraction from Solas and Sera at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you two arguing about something?” Lavellan asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bull looks him over. Lavellan stands closer to Solas then Sera and it doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> like anything is causing him distress. If anything, the deeper they’ve gone, the better Lavellan seems to be doing. More filled with life. He scratches his horn, probably to do with the lack of responsibility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about you trust me for once?” Valta’s voice snaps. “I know I’m not the best at thinking about fighting, but we don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> we are going into.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances up, spots Renn rubbing at his face, “I get that. Just, why do you want to wait for backup?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have to,” Valta says, looking over at them. Something about her expression makes him uneasy. “It’s just a suggestion. But I do think we need to be prepared for anything once we go down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Valta has a point, Renn,” Lavellan adds, perching on one of the tables. “It has been how long since anything not Darkspawn has been here? Waiting for others to get here might take too long and we do need to stop the earthquakes, but that shouldn’t lead to us not being careful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is a good point. Especially knowing the bit Lavellan was willing to share last time. They seem to be doing a good job nudging him into being more aware of danger at the very least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll rest up here,” Renn says. “Take care of injuries, double check equipment. When we go down, we’ll bring some extra potions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Valta seems relieved at the acceptance and Iron Bull has the momentary thought that she remembers the future-past, but he doesn’t know what she was like last time. For now, he’ll just prepare for what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> know waits down below. Sha-brytol.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. "Give me that"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mahanon is okay, for now. He thinks on things and Ellana gives him something.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mahanon's role in the clan is different this time. The Reality was second to Ellana, her reflection in hunts and the few battles they faced. Now, Mahanon drifts between the various tasks. Sometimes he helps with the halla, others gathering, or crafting and teaching. It is stabilizing to be in a familiar place, yet to feel the differences that have come.</p>
<p>Ellana is different too. She likes trying to figure out what he means when words come out tangled together and make sense to <em>him</em> but don't to others. Hunting and protecting is her passion, still, but she helps.</p>
<p>Deshanna enjoys listening to him as well. Likes hearing the bits and pieces he can remember the Secret telling him. He knows she goes over all of it, figures out what can reasonably be shared and what is better left to the past. They've planted trees in places there wasn't before to remember and he's watched things shift with the Arlathvhen.</p>
<p>It makes it hard to feel stable sometimes. The ground shifting underneath him, but it feels too <em>solid</em> at the same time.</p>
<p>"Mahanon! What you thinking about?," Ellana says, flinging herself over his back.</p>
<p>"Differences," he says, shifting the knife in his hand.</p>
<p>Ellana reaches down, plucks the piece of wood from his hands, "A... butterfly?"</p>
<p>He hums, "Elu likes them."</p>
<p>"Guess that makes sense." Ellana doesn't add anything else and he can hear her turning the wood over, looking at it. Her weight presses down on him and Mahanon kind of wants to take a nap.</p>
<p>The knife is grabbed from his hand and he jerks forward, "Give me that!"</p>
<p>She laughs, "In a moment. Want to add something."</p>
<p><a id="return22" name="return22"></a>He whines, but doesn't protest as Ellana carves. Whatever it is she adds doesn't take long and she drops it in front of him. Mahanon blinks at it, smooths over the carving she did. "Ara seranna<sup><a href="#note22">1</a></sup>.</p>
<p><a id="return23" name="return23"></a>"I might be planning how to <em>deal</em>, thusast ma lath ish<sup><a href="#note23">2</a></sup>."</p>
<p>Just under the wing, a wolf looks up at him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a id="note22" name="note22"></a><sup>1</sup>Ara seranna - My thanks.<sup><a href="#return22">back</a></sup><br/><a id="note23" name="note23"></a><sup>2</sup>thusast ma lath ish - however you love him<sup><a href="#return23">back</a></sup></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. "Do I have to do everything here?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Exalted Council is not going how they expected, but Dorian thinks maybe they should have seen that coming.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The tricky thing is that none of them could really </span>
  <em>
    <span>discuss</span>
  </em>
  <span> what the plans were going into the Exalted Council. What they did manage to go over was the overall things. How were they going to deal with the Qunari? Would they mention it? Who do they tell? How do they approach the Solas situation given they seemed to fall back together no matter what the rest of them did?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At no point</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dorian thinks, eye twitching, </span>
  <em>
    <span>did anyone seem to consider how what has happened differently would change how </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mahanon</span>
  <em>
    <span> would act.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposes they may have gotten a bit too caught up in the picture of Mahanon from last time and lost the thread that this is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>different</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mahanon, shaped by the changes that they have caused. On the other hand, now that he’s thinking about it, the aggressiveness isn’t that surprising given how he remembers before ending.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorian looks at Vivienne and Sera who are both staring after Mahanon, stunned and he rolls his eyes, “Do I have to do everything here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Good news: it’s easy to find Mahanon. Bad news: he has no clue what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inquisitor, are you alright?” he asks, blocking the view of where they are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon’s breath is heavy as he clutches his hand to his chest, “No. There’s nothing you can do. Just, give me a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns and leans against the wall. Mahanon obviously doesn’t want people to know about this and it hurts, but there really is nothing any of them can do to help. Solas was the only one who knew anything about the anchor and he didn’t think about asking any questions. Vivienne didn’t either, of course, but it does mean they now have to let Solas take it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footfalls come from behind him and Dorian sends a smile to Mahanon, “Better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As I can be. I need to talk with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Dorian says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon walks off, towards where Josephine is talking with the Orlsian and Ferelden representatives. His left hand is clenched and Dorian can’t really fight the feeling of failure.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. "Back up!"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They are nearing the Titan's heart. Mahanon just... needs to not die. Easy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mahanon bites his tongue, tastes blood in his mouth. It is so tempting to </span>
  <em>
    <span>let go</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to skip and laugh and dance. Being here feels electrifying with how little hold the chain has and it takes all of his focus to actually pay attention to their surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His ear twitches, catching the sound of sha-brytol from above. He glances toward it, palming a dagger out. Glowing blue moves towards them angled to fall from above and he growls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back up!” he yells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Familiar movement and his dagger knocks a sha-brytol off course as it falls, landing on the ground only to be smashed by Bull’s weapon. More come and he strikes at any he can. It is freeing. The titan scratching at the chain and Mahanon can </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span>, can make choices he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>act</span>
  </em>
  <span> on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s almost enough to make him want to slip off the bridge. Fall into the water and be free of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A stalker slashes at him. He rolls back, puts distance that gets eaten just as quickly. It swings, he catches the dagger on his own and twists it out. It slams its head forward and Mahanon ducks to the side. There’s something that might have been a growl. He kicks out to slow the sha-brytol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humming flows through the air. Odd and he turns to see what it is. Something slams into him and a yell breaks over the fight. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>shing</span>
  </em>
  <span> through the air. The body atop him goes limp and thunks as the light shifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon shoves the sha-brytol off, stands and looks to see what is going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mahanon!” Solas’s voice calls from the other side of the barrier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to respond, say he’s alright, but the veins connected to the heart shatter and the Guardian rises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is that?!” he hears Renn yell as the first limb crashes down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There might be a reply, but he can’t focus on that. He’s made a promise to Valta and he has no intention of not keeping it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. "Just say it"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hawke knows the Inquisition can handle itself. He's got some other things to take care of first.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hawke has no clue </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> he knows the future and doesn’t really want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about the reasons too much. Choosing what to do with the knowledge is difficult and it is tempting to head to Haven. To share what he does know and hope the Inquisition can change what happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows that they were able to handle it last time and there are things Hawke can do - has the </span>
  <em>
    <span>knowledge</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do - that are maybe not world affecting, but are world affecting. Hence why he is in Hasmal, not Ferelden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t want to be found,” Anders says, carefully preparing elfroot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I just wanted some different scenery,” Hawke replies, shrugging and trying to figure out how to bring up the topic. “Anything interesting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anders squints at him, knife stilling, “What else, Hawke. You’re dancing around something. Just say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, he guesses that works. “I know where Fenris is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knife clatters against the table and Anders hunches over it. “Hawke… How…? No one has been able to find </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He runs a hand over his head, “Yeah. I… Promise you’ll listen to everything? Cause I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>zero</span>
  </em>
  <span> clue what’s going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a moment for Anders to nod, sitting down. Hawke takes a steadying breathe, “Something weird happened. Magic weird, I think. And I...know things that are going to happen. I know what caused the hole in the sky, that it gets healed twice, that an elven god is somehow behind it all. I know that Corypheous isn’t dead and can cause a false calling in Wardens and take over their bodies if his is destroyed. I know that, frankly, shit just gets worse from here and two years from now is about all the peace we get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hawke-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know where Fenris is, where that void-cursed bastard is and that we don’t figure it out until too late and he’s too close to death to save. I know that the only thing that keeps you from completely losing control is the future Inquisitor talking you down cause he gets </span>
  <em>
    <span>this shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I know that we--all of us from Kirkwall--die fighting to save the world.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawke can’t really look at Anders right now so he stares at the ceiling, “Things go to- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Things just go to the Void and get worse. At some point the Qunari actually try to assassinate every leader in Thedas but are stopped and I never got the full details on </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Shit just was </span>
  <em>
    <span>decided</span>
  </em>
  <span> by one person and everyone else was caught up in it. Had to deal with and react to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why be </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when you could tell people about this?” Anders asks and his voice is shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawke blinks, looks down from the ceiling, “Probably mean of me to say, but the worst shit doesn’t happen for a couple years and they can handle </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> part just fine. Getting Fenris out of Danarius’ hands is already going to be hard, but I can do that. I’m not sure how </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would be able to change with the Inquisition; it’s too necessary that certain things happen there. Getting a friend out of slavery? Not world impacting, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>it changes shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anders sighs and Hawke can see Justice’s flickering blue for a moment. “Who else have you told?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About the future knowledge? You’re the first,” he says. “I sent letters to everyone but Sebatstion and Varrci saying I knew where Fenris is and asked Donnic to get a letter updating Varric on contact stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers tap on the table and Hawke takes the moment of silence to start poking at the timing. He’s still getting involved for the Wardens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Anders says, “when are we going to get Fenris?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hawke grins and this is going to be something he won’t regret doing.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. "I trust you"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He's so close to the end. He wants to see it end, one way or another, and it will.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Takes place at end of Trespasser so spoilers. I guess.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He stumbles through the petrified qunari. He can hear the Vidasalla up ahead, can hear Solas and the relief almost sends him to his knees. It has been difficult the last two years, but it is not something they could do anything about. Not then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vidasalla goes to attack Solas, turning to stone before anything can be done past raising her weapon. He can’t bring himself to feel anything for her and he walks by without a glance, trails after Solas the few steps he can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Solas,” he manages before it’s too much and he collapses to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands catch him, soften the last few inches. Pull him close and he missed this so much; how was he able to stand being alone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mahanon,” Solas says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain in his arm ceases and Mahanon breathes heavy. It is startling how strange the lack of pain is. How long has it been since he’s been able to do anything without the reminder of pain? How long has it been since he could remember his name?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Valta told me. Shared what she could understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hums, presses close and Solas is warm. “Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma eir’es, why give it to me? It would have helped you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head, “I couldn’t use it. Someone else needed to and the anchor was still needed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand shifts to the back of his head, cradles it to Solas’ shoulder. “Why me? Why trust your life in my hands with everything I did?”</span>
</p><p><span>“You wouldn’t hesitate. They would or ask too much and I </span><em><span>don’t have time</span></em><span>. Please, ma vhenan. </span><em><span>I</span></em> <em><span>trust</span></em> <em><span>you</span></em><span>.”</span></p><p>
  <span>Solas shifts and he tips his head back, catches his lips on his own. Mahanon focuses on the feeling of the kiss to ignore what will come. The anchor flares, fights the call of its creator, and he pulls back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Screams and scratches and fights the grip on him. Something warm presses through and cuts the pain off, rips it out from the root.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ma shivanem.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The storm breaks and the sea fills with waves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon holds onto Solas. Breathes for what feels like the first time. Part of him wants to stay here, rest and let the sudden </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span> stabilize before doing anything else, but there is still stuff for him to do and it is not safe to stay here. Not with what he knows will be coming now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vhenan,” Mahanon says, brushes his hand over Solas cheek, “come to Skyhold?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solas’ lips quirk up and he leans down to kiss him. He pulls back slowly, whispers against Mahanon’s lips, “I’ll be there. Do what you need to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mahanon bares his teeth and rises on steady legs. An Exalted Council waits for him and he will make sure they know what his opinion is.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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